The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog
by Elven Nimue
Summary: The story of the Seven. The story of a love. The story of a lust. The story of a betrayal. The story of a kinslayer. The story of a binding. The story of Kibeth, the Walker. Part One in a trilogy, going from the creation to Kibeth's death in Abhorsen.
1. Kibeth of the Great Sickle Wood

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

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Disclaimer: I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

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Notes: If this is the first time you have read this fic, this chapter may not appeal to you, or make that much sense. I started this fic without a clue as to how I was going to end it, or where it was going. The first and second chapters are not the best chapters in the world, I'm sure we've all read better but they are still readable. -Lily

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter One: **_Kibeth of The Great Sickle Wood and the 'Bad News'_

It had been exactly two hundred years. Two hundred years it took to weave the Charter. Making every sign, every symbol, for every single thing. They were lucky they had even finished it. They had only a few intrusions during the time but that only made the process of lacing the Charter harder and again longer.

But that was two hundred years ago; thank the Charter it was over. The lady thought. The woman had been in the great beech for some time now. A few passing by travelers barely even noticed her she had sat so still but every now and then a curious passerby stopped and asked for a direction or perhaps an even 'What are you doing up there?' remark. The lady would give a warm smile and would simply reply 'No reason' or a 'I'm in the process of figuring it out.' Then she would resume her stare at the clouds. The travelers called her the Forest Guardian; people believed she was a spirit of some sort that's why she never left the trees. Some even called her crazy, but most people called her Kibeth, the Gazer.

She liked that name, Kibeth. So, that was the beginning of it all.

Kibeth had very long, silky, black hair. Her skin was tan shade and it went equally well with her dark eyes. She always wore a green tunic with brown leggings and was found with a bow and a quiver of arrows. But she was a pleasant maiden and anybody who's anybody thought her presence in the wood was comforting.

It just so happened that one day a familiar face walked into the Great Sickle Wood. He was very tall, clothed in black and red. His head was hooded and he walked in great strides. Which, to any common person seemed quite eerie. The villagers who inhabited a town very close to the Great Sickle Wood labeled him 'bad news'.

The 'bad news' man approached Kibeth's beech tree one day and called from below.

"I had a feeling you would return here." His voice was musical yet powerful. 

Kibeth looked down from her gaze and was quite curious.

"Who are you? And what is your name Stranger?" Kibeth spoke to him.

"You loved adding the Charter here, I heard. I had a hunch you would return, once completed." He continued.

She blinked a couple of times and the corner of her lips curled up.

"Why my dear Belgaer! I knew you'd find me." 

"I did," He pulled down his hood and revealed a face of a young man. His eyes were blue and his long hair dark was flowing behind him. "And I am thankful for it." He admitted, his voice was almost a whisper but Kibeth heard his every word.

And for the first time in many months, Kibeth jumped from the haven of her perch and joined Belgaer by his side.

"Though I did not come for just a happy reunion," He paused for a moment and spoke with uncertainty. "Friend."

Kibeth looked upon him and their eyes locked, but Belgaer turned and continued.

"In Saraneth's house across the river from the Long Cliffs have been swarming with dead hands and the like. He told me that strange things were going to happen. New people that used to live on the Ratterlin migrated further North towards the glaciers, Mosrael's people. They're using the Charter for warmth and guidance." He paused and turned towards her once more. His icy eyes were intent and they carried a great burden. "They have a strange power about them, I'm not entirely sure. Though it's very similar to Mosrael's gift…" Belgaer hesitated, searching for the correct words as he changed the subject.

"Four people were found dead close to the Red Lake. Their bodies were massacred and obliterated. It was horrible and there was nothing there to lead on to who or what did it."

"Was it perhaps a Free Magic creature?" Kibeth suggested gravely. This, indeed, was not her idea of a fine reunion. 

"Possibly, but I don't think it's over," He looked nervous now. "Kibeth, will you come with me?" 

Kibeth looked at Belgaer. His blue eyes were pleading as much as the man before her. She smiled warmly.

"Of course," She looked him and her voice weakened. "Friend."

~

a/n Right, how was that? I swear if there's plenty of reviews, I update extremely fast, that's not a lie! 

My first attempt with a Sabriel or Lirael or Abhorsen or pick one. Besides the fact I have a million plot bunnies at hand…::lazy Lily, lazy Lily::


	2. Blush

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

Disclaimer: I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

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Warnings: Blushing

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Two: **_Blush_

If you went into the villages that dwelled in the Great Sickle Wood, the Wise Man or Woman would always tell you the story of the Guardian. How the Lady Guarding sat in her tall tree and watched the world from above, and how one day a handsome man brought her down from her watch and took her away. Many thought it was an ill omen and the forest would fall into darkness without the keen and protective watch of the Lady. Some thought it was just her time to become apart of a man's life and raise a family. And then there were those who still stuck with the fact that the woman and everything that revolved around her were bizarre and crazy. No one knew the real story, no one well, besides the Lady and the handsome man.

"Where are we going Belgaer? " Kibeth asked curiously trying to adjust with her friend's quick pace.

"I was thinking we could go and see Saraneth. He might know something else. Everything, it all seems so clouded. I don't understand." 

"Well, shouldn't we be going south?" She asked.

"No. He and…" he hesitated for fear of Kibeth's action towards the name he was going to say, but decided to keep it safe. "His sister, will be at Mt. Aunden."

Kibeth flinched when the sister part was mentioned. She did not want to see the younger sister of the Abhorsen Saraneth; she did not want to see Astarael the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, the woman who made her feel miserable with every step she took. 

Belgaer stopped and turned to Kibeth. Hesitantly, he placed his rough hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently.

She shivered when he touched her, but returned his gaze with a small sad smile. He smiled back at her and he no longer looked worried or nervous but young and carefree. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and blinked a couple times, letting the smile spread larger.

"I'm sorry. Let's go." Belgaer said quickly as he turned and returned to his brisk pace. Kibeth was still a little red, but she too ran to catch up with him. The past should be forgotten, but it was still painful.

~

Like short chapters? I don't, but it seemed quite fitting to make this chapter by far the shortest. So review and say…WHY THE HECK IS THIS CHAPTER SO SHORT? I won't mind…but you don't have too.


	3. A Talk, A Joke, and Warm Feelings

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

Disclaimer: I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

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Warnings: Minor obsessive behavior.

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Part One: Seven Meetings

**Chapter Three:** A Talk, A Joke, and Warm Feelings

They didn't speak to each other for several minutes. Kibeth was still thinking about the Great Sickle Woods. She had lived there for so long, years and years of relaxation and then one day she just gathered her bow and arrows and left with an old friend. It happened fast, far too fast.

"Are you sure Saraneth will even know what's going on," Kibeth said quietly her eyes to the back of Belgaer's head. 

"Saraneth said he was keeping a close watch on Ratterlin folk," Belgaer spoke to her. "We can only trust her as we once did so long ago."

He slowed his pace so they walked side by side. "Yes," Kibeth looked down to the ground as she walked. "I'm glad you came back."

"I'm glad too," his voice was lighter and more blissful than previously. "I just wish I could have returned sooner."

He turned to her as their pace equally lessened. "Have you been lonely," he grinned in jest. "From the stories I've heard these past two hundred years, you've stayed in those trees everyday, by yourself."

She laughed, "Lonely? Maybe, a little, but I wasn't exactly looking for company," her voice went quieter. "You just came. Like you said you would."

Belgaer looked up to the sky, "It's getting dark and we're barely out of the Woods," he stopped and looked at her, a smile widening on his face. "I suppose I should have retrieved you earlier this morning so we could at least reached the Town by nightfall."

Kibeth ruffled her brow, "We could camp," she suggested.

"Brilliant idea," he said in a mock sarcastic tone.

Kibeth rolled her eyes and started for the trees away from the path.

"So you are going to sleep in a tree and leave me on the ground be myself," He joked behind her.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," She laughed as she grabbed the lowest branch from the birch. Belgaer's hand locked firmly on Kibeth's wrist, she turned to him. Belgaer's face was serious and thoughtful, he hadn't been joking.

"All right," she said in defeat as she threw her bow and quiver to the base of the tree's trunk. 

They discarded their packs and weapons to the ground and night was already upon them. 

"I suppose we leave at dawn," she asked as she sat on the springy grass.

"Right at dawn." He confirmed.

Kibeth sighed as she lay down completely on the ground, spread luxuriously on the forest floor eyelids dropping every once in awhile.

Belgaer smiled as sat at the base of a birch, using the trunk for support. Her dark hair fell on her face as she passed into slumber; he stared at her. She hadn't changed at all, her features were the same, her voice, everything, except her warm feelings. Some had lingered, but he knew she was trying to forget them, forget him. He groaned in disgust at the past and went into a troubled sleep.

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A/N Sorry reviewers for the very long wait on the next chapter, I don't want to give you any excuses except that I'll update faster!! Oh and a huge thanks! I love you guys!! Tell me what you think on this little installment! R/R mine and I'll R/R yours, when time is available…¬_¬…. ^_^


	4. Unsettling Dreams

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

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Disclaimer: Mind you, I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

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Note: Attention!!!! If you'd like to have an email update when the Chronicles is updated, review and tell me! -Lily

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Warnings: Spooky dream,an aroused Belgaer, and caresses. 

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Four:** _Unsettling Dreams_

Kibeth was in a small rectangular room; it was quite cold and rather dark. The Charter marks upon the wall for light were too old to continue shinning and just lay there as they began to crumble. This confused Kibeth, the Charter was too new to start to disintegrate into nothing, _especially_ spells for light; the caster must have been a newly developed Charter mage.

The air was full of magic. Old, familiar, protective magic. Where was she? Kibeth cast her own light spell and let it hang on her necklace for such a purpose. That was when she noticed she hadn't been alone. 

Tall and dark, with a dagger at hand was a girl, a teenage girl. Her hair was long and dark, wearing a waistcoat of scarlet. Obviously, the girl hadn't noticed her, she must be dreaming, for the girl was interested in something else.

Kibeth turned in the direction her unaware companion was facing and saw pedestals, seven ivory plinths. Coincidence, thought Kibeth, as the first thing she thought of was her true companions. 

A dog statuette stood on the third from the left and clearly the black haired girl was attracted to it also, for she took a step forward and screamed.

And then the dream changed, as if a bright light suddenly sparked and Kibeth blinded blinking furiously, the room changed.

Now the Charter marks that were once faded and almost indistinguishable, were bright and clear full of luminosity to show that the once tomb was bright, furnished, and new. But, she noticed that wasn't all that changed.

The pillars were no longer bare; each one had their own statuette. She walked towards them slowly, pleading for the dream to end and found the same dog statuette. It reminded her of, something. 

She placed it down and looked to the others. A falcon caught her eye, it was proud and majestic with his wings spread beautifully, and a pain of loneliness stabbed her heart. Maybe it wasn't coincidence, she thought. The statuettes pained her; she didn't want to feel this lonely any more. She wanted Belgaer, just have his gentle, powerful arms around her, make her feel safe. Kibeth hadn't realized she was holding the bird tightly, it's wings almost piercing her flesh. 

She put it down and sniffed. She wanted out of this dream, she knew she could wake up and see Belgaer smiling close by. Wake up, she repeated in her mind over and over.

"_Wake up!_" She screamed.

"I'm awake!" A voice said irritably.

Kibeth shot up and looked around, her chest falling up and down as if she had been sprinting.

"What is it," Belgaer was looking at her, clearly she had woken him up.

"Bad dream," she whispered timidly. She couldn't look at him, his dark eyes were too sincere and caring…and loving.

He sighed and looked at her, it was far too dark to see exactly what she looked like but he could still see her eyes, eyes that weren't looking at him.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Kibeth looked at him and never felt so stupid in her entire life. _She was acting like a schoolgirl!_

Belgaer must have noticed too for he laughed. His laugh was musical, like a bell.

"Oh shut up," she lunged at him and straddled him to the ground that was when his laughing ceased.

A blush spread across her face and she hoped the darkness covered it. Her hands were on his chest, feeling it go up and down in a steady rhythm she wished she were closer too, his long dark hair was spread across the leaves, and he was looking at her. That was when she looked him in the eye.

He brought his hands to hers and held them. They were warm and comfortable, noted Kibeth, as they were before. They moved boldly for her thighs, rubbing them gently, the caress making her lightheaded with want. She breathed a little faster as he continued his stroke. Without warning her fingers started massaging his chest, he moaned. _No! _She stopped immediately as if in fear, Belgaer gave her a surprised and hurtful look.

"The sun is rising," Belgaer whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. They were pained with…. _Lust._

And indeed the sun was rising, coloring the leaves from black to green making it finally dawn.

"We should leave for Chasel," Kibeth concluded, springing up and turning away, hoping her lingering blush wasn't noticeable.

"Yes," he confirmed behind her.

~

A/N: Ha, the plot thickens, not really. I had fun writing this chapter, I'll update real soon guys. Keep watch for the next installment! Question before I go, anyone know of any good Sabriel, Lirael, etc. sites out there? I'm curious and anticipating. Thanks and R/R mine and I'll R/R yours, when time is available…¬_¬…. ^_^


	5. Ill Tidings Indeed

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

Disclaimer: Mind you, I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

****

Note: Attention!!!! If you'd like to have an email update when the Chronicles are updated, review and tell me! -Lily

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Warnings: Shouting. Yes, shouting.

~

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Five: **_Ill Tidings Indeed_

Walk, walk, walk, and walk. Still walking. Haven't stopped yet. A vicious cycle of step-step-step, nothing else, complete silence except for the footfalls of the two ridiculously silent companions. These were the thoughts of Kibeth at the moment. 

She looked over to her noiseless acquaintance to see if his oh-so-unelaborated face changed at all for the past hour, no, Belgaer was thinking, again, with his infamous looks of doom. The sort of face where it clearly said if-you-can't-be-playful-then-back-off. He had given her that face for some time now. 

His boot kicked a rock and landed somewhere near a tree. Of course Kibeth noticed it, her antisocial partner gave her no choice but to listen too stupid rocks be kicked into trees. Annoyed, no it had gone far beyond that, it was anger rising into a fiery passion. 

If she took one more step she might have to grab Belgaer give him a furious shake, slap him silly a couple times, and finish it with a kiss she dearly wished to give him. She took another step but decided against her various procedure if this occurred. Kibeth sighed a great much needed sigh. Belgaer sighed a short sigh right after.

Was he mocking her? How dare he mock her boredom! That was it, he pushed it too far, and that sigh was the spark that ignited the one thing that she would have to do to get him back.

"I'lllllll," She began in a very unnatural high tone. "Sing you song of long ago-"

Since this particular technique worked wonders on most of her friends, she did not have a beautiful voice, quite the contrary, but she flaunted that and made up a rhyme with a dance number, which was undeniably ridiculous as Dyrim said.

"Seven shine the shiners, oh!" Kibeth made sure to emphasize on the 'oh' rather loudly. She stole a look to Belgaer, he was grinning.

"What did the Seven do way back when?" She asked in mock curiosity to absolutely no one.

"Why, they wove the Charter then," Belgaer murmured in a monotone voice. Belgaer sighed again.

Now it was serious, he didn't even laugh? What was the matter with him? Kibeth ruffled her brow sympathetically and looked at Belgaer. 

Her Belgaer, her love, her soul mate, and companion for life. It was wonderful then, but she supposed it was better now. Did he miss her at all? Well, maybe, he did hold her and look at her like he use to, Kibeth noted hopefully. Maybe he really did need a kiss. She couldn't do that, it wouldn't be right.

Kibeth brought her hands to his as they walked in his long strides, he didn't acknowledge. His grave face just kept forward, but she saw pain in his eyes as she held his rough hand in hers. His warm hand touching her skin made her feel so right. "Belgaer," she murmured. "Stop Kibeth," he whispered as he pulled his hand away from her hold.

Kibeth stopped and watched him go, as he did once before, she almost considered crying. No, she chose differently. Her mouth went into a snarl of hate. Fine, if Belgaer didn't want her, she did not want Belgaer. 'Liar' said a nasty voice in her head.

"Are you coming?" he asked ahead, his voice impatient and stressed.

Kibeth sprinted to Belgaer and once again they began on that much loved silence and what seemed like endless walking.

How could he have changed so suddenly, she pondered to herself. He was actually quite affectionate towards her when he arrived and up until now his company was enjoyable. Was it the song? Was it when she pounced on him? Was it when she rejected his touch?

Questions flooded her mind, searching for a conclusion. Maybe she should apologize, no, she decided immediately. She was far too proud to do that. Damn pride, she cursed. Well, if she wasn't going to apologize, there was one thing she could do.

"What ales you Belgaer my love?" she said tartly.

Belgaer scoffed, "You know no love my dear," he retorted his voice barely a menacing whisper. Those words stung hard and cold.

"And you have no moral," she snapped.

He had nothing to say to this, but his face was stern and his pace faster.

They were reaching the end of the forest and the town Chasel was in clear view. They walked quickly and again in silence until they reached an inn as planned. The Cherry Glade Inn was a lovely place to visit indeed. The place had a cherry blossom tree in the front, which definitely gave the place a cozy feeling. But Kibeth was far too bitter to care for the splendor.

The walked inside, Belgaer leading her with a stern face, and noise from the inside flooded Kibeth's ears. Noise of instruments, chatting, arguing, and the like. Normal inn sounds.

"Hello, I need two accommodations for one night," Belgaer said in a professional gentlemen matter, which Kibeth snorted at how fake she knew it was. Such an actor, she thought nastily.

The young girl behind the desk blushed a bit at Belgaer and nodded silently with a bubbly smile on her tan and lovely face. So tempting to slap, she noted with resentment.

"I'm sorry sir, but we have only three rooms left, and two are reserved." She said timidly.

Kibeth chortled, "Naturally," she said sourly.

"Two beds?" Belgaer said with a dashing smile to the young girl.

"That can be arranged." She said smiling back.

Now, Kibeth was truly disgusted. He was just doing this to make her jealous or angry. Which, the nasty little voice in her head noted very bitterly, he accomplished.

"Lovely," he finished with a wink as she handed him the key with a shaking hand.

Belgaer walked up the stairs and Kibeth followed reluctantly; he was farther ahead.

"Is he your brother?" The girl asked anxiously.

"No," she said dryly.

"You aren't his…his,"

"No," she finished shortly. "He's just a concubine." That should please them both, she smirked with triumph as she followed him up the stairs and into the room.

When she opened the door she found Belgaer sitting on one of the squishy armchairs, contemplating. How different, she thought sarcastically.

But he was looking at her, or his face was in her direction. His blue eyes burning with a passion she longed for, and his shoulder-length jet black hair hung loosely which gave him a lustful look for a man you would probably see in a fairy tale book. She didn't know her face softened by just looking at him and remembering that he was once hers, no she was his. She could remember everything about him from so long ago, and she wished she could just relive it once more. Apologizing had to be in order, even if she was the one to do it, she could not live this way.

"Why," she tried slowly, not wanting to yell (well she did but that probably wasn't wise) "Why are you mad at me." 

Silence.

"You are acting like a child Belgaer!" she shouted, so much for not yelling. "I'm trying Belgaer, I am!"

"Why am I mad at you?" He got up very quickly from his sitting position that it had nearly made her jump. His eyes were bluer then before and they were burning. Was it anger, or hate, or passion? Her face was no longer stern or proud, but sad and she fought dearly to keep the tears that had wanted out for years at bay. 

She didn't hear his answer, nor did he approach finishing it himself, for he grabbed her powerfully and forcefully and pulled her into the kiss they both realized they needed. She fell into his kiss, just lost in his caressing and gentleness. His once firm hold on her shoulders lightened and reached into her hair, feeling its thin strands on his weather beaten hands. They broke apart slowly afraid that the moment would shatter right in front of them as it did so long ago, and stared at each other, gazing. Kibeth the Gazer one woman had said. She laid her head onto his chest as he held her in the middle of the bedroom, the noise downstairs never faltering while she was content with just the sound of his heartbeat. A beautiful rhythm of love, passion, and determination in each beat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his black shirt. 

"As am I, my lovely Kibeth," He kissed her head tenderly and never even thought of letting go.

"Well, I thought you would be halfway to Mt. Aunden right now Belgaer, you left only a couple weeks ago from Belisaere and I was wondering if picking up Kibeth would take this long," A stranger from behind Belgaer near the windows spoke in a highly amused voice, which caused Kibeth to jump and Belgaer to quickly reach his sword but fumbled with making it come out of it's scabbard. 

"Though judging by the scene just recently I can see why you took so long." The man was very tall and looking out the window. He was wearing a deep red cloak with a gold trim and his equally gold hair was bound in a ponytail that hung neatly down his back. Belgaer sighed in relief and Kibeth gave a nervous chuckle, her heart still racing.

"Ranna," Belgaer sat flopped down on the armchair, a broad grin on his face. "Don't do that, ever again."

~

A/N- Yay, Ranna appears! Whoo hoo! Anyway, nothing to say really except, thanks reviewers and hope you enjoyed this bit and be prepared, I'm nearly done with chapter six! R/R mine and I'll R/R yours, when time is available…¬_¬…. ^_^


	6. I Need You

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

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Disclaimer: Mind you, I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind.

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Warnings: None really.

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Note: Attention!!!! If you'd like to have an email update when the Chronicles are updated, review and tell me! Another thing, Ranna is indeed female, I just want him male in this piece for the lack of males in the Great Charters…-Lily

Enough of my business, on with the fanfic! Be prepared; you're in for an angsty/drama bit. 

~

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Six:** _I Need You_

"Sorry, was I interrupting something," Ranna asked in mock confusion, which earned an infuriated glare from Belgaer. Ranna approached Belgaer and gave him a friendly shoulder shake and chuckled, his green eyes sparkling. Belgaer laughed and returned the shake with a warm smile.

"Little lovely Kibeth, I haven't seen you in so long," Ranna left Belgaer's side and turned to Kibeth with a loving smile. "I have missed you," he embraced her tightly and she returned the warm hug as he whispered in her ear. "And I think Belgaer has too." Which of course caused Kibeth to giggle in triumph.

"Ranna, what are you doing here?" Belgaer asked as he flopped on the bed, replacing his sword in its scabbard.

"Looking for you, idiot," Ranna said smugly. "You said you would only take you a couple of days, but you went off for about…..Hmm…uh, how long was it?" He asked himself, his voice full of sarcasm and lack of patience. "Oh yes, four weeks. A little off track don't you think Sir Belgaer?"

Belgaer gave him wry grin and sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry."

Kibeth ruffled her brow in confusion. Why did it take him four weeks to retrieve her? It should have only taken, like Ranna said, a couple of days to reach Sickle Woods from Belisaere. Did he forget something from his home (which was near the wall), Kibeth asked herself? That would explain some things, but she doubted Belgaer would actually forget something, as he always planned ahead. Even if his planning isn't always for the better, she reminded herself miserably. Then it hit her, with a very dirty and evil slap of logic and memory. He was with Saraneth! Saraneth and…she closed her eyes painfully. Don't jump to conclusions Kibeth, she thought.

"Kibeth," Ranna said in a confused voice that caught her attention.

"Yes?" She replied, blinking away her memories. 

Ranna cocked his eyebrow and continued, "Nothing, you were just standing their staring at the wall and I thought it was rather unnatural." He looked at her plainly but she knew that he knew what she was thinking. 

He was aware of Belgaer's stupid mistake that occurred awhile back. He comforted her at that time. Solace was sought near Ranna when Belgaer wasn't there; when Belgaer was with…she grumbled silently and knew Belgaer would not make that choice again. Hopefully. She had to trust him.

"When you were off in your thoughtful place, we were discussing the extra four weeks that Belgaer decided to take. He used it to meet with Mosrael and assist her with the migration safely, then he-"

"I wasn't with Astarael." Belgaer interrupted.

This caused Ranna to shut up and look to the ground as Kibeth's eyes to drift from Ranna to Belgaer. He knew what she was thinking, he always knew. He knew her better than Ranna did. He loved her, she supposed. Then why did he hurt you? The nasty voice in her head asked.

"It was an accident, I didn't mean for it to happen," Belgaer said silently.

"Indeed," she stated her voice numb and still, trying to keep the bitterness at bay.

Belgaer looked at her, his face full of regret and compassion. If it was a mask or not Kibeth did not know, she couldn't tell. That was the bad part. Shouldn't lovers know each other as if they were one? Kibeth thought she knew Belgaer. Well, she did know Belgaer. Kibeth didn't know what to believe now.

Belgaer sighed. "Well, I'm going to bed." He said after a moment of mystified silence.

Kibeth ruffled her brow. 

"Those other two rooms were reserved by Ranna," he explained, his back to her as he walked out without another word.

Silence followed after he left. Did he actually care anymore? Kibeth scowled at her angst-like behavior. She still felt sorry for herself; she needed to push that aside.

"Belgaer has changed Kibeth, if you give him that chance I'm sure you'll forget it in time. The pain, I mean." His words were solemn and quiet.

Kibeth nodded. "I wish," Kibeth's voice faltered for a moment, she didn't want tears to come. "I never left him." 

"I know," was all Ranna could say. He knew his lack of verbal comfort wasn't helping. He hummed a quite tune that didn't really mean anything, it was just a lace of notes, but it helped Kibeth noted. He always did this when times were hard, he would just stare off and hum a simple, clear tune. It made the companions she once traveled with a little better. Kibeth didn't know if he did it purposely then, or if he knew it actually worked on the company of long ago; it was working now.

She didn't feel Ranna's gentle embrace, or his kisses on her hair. Kibeth felt a sudden peace and the built up tears that hadn't been unleashed were replaced with sleepiness. She couldn't explain it; she was so tired, but wasn't sleeping. The trees and the twilight through the window were blurry. "So tired," she mumbled. 

Ranna hadn't a clue what she said. Her slurred words sounded as if she had to many glasses of wine, but Ranna continued to rock and hum. Her head was resting on his chest as they stood in front of the twilight; he watched the shades of orange, pink, and purple in all its brilliance as it faded to graceful darkness. His melody ceased as his attention was focused on the radiant dusk. 

He brushed his cheek against her hair and placed another kiss on her dark strands, inhaling her essence for what was probably going to be the last time. "Belgaer, doesn't deserve you," he said bitterly to the darkness. His face became soft and tired. "I don't deserve you. Little lovely Kibeth." 

He bent his head to look at her sleeping face. Peaceful, yet sad. Her lips were parted and she breathed in and out silently. Her head hung down as he held her.

"Kibeth," he said louder. She stirred in his hold and blinked awake.

"Y-yes?" She yawned and looked at him. Her gaze was a little out of focus and her eyelids were dropping.

"You should get some rest Little lovely Kibeth. I'll sleep in the other room."

She left his arms and nodded as she walked to the bed lying down luxuriously. She mumbled something inaudible, which caused Ranna to grin, his old good spirit returning.

"Good night, little lovely Kibeth." Ranna said as he exited.

This was becoming very dramatic, he mused.

~

A/N: Fear not, Kibeth will become more Disreputable Dog-like. It's just right now she needs to develop. Hmm. Reviews are nice, as are the reviewers, thank you. R/R mine and I'll R/R yours, when time is available…¬_¬…. ^_^


	7. Northwards to the Mansions of Aunden

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

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Disclaimer: I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind

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Warnings: Infatuation

"That is the Wallmaker relict, or their last creation, or their child…"-Abhorsen on Mogget from Sabriel pg. 372 paperback edition.

~

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Seven:** _Northwards to the Mansions of Aunden_

It was utterly silent when Kibeth's eyes opened. The room was silent and dark. _What time is it?_ She asked herself. She suspected it was near dawn as a glimmer of light could be seen through her thick forest green curtains. She sighed and blinked slowly trying to shake away her weariness. 

To early for the living souls to roam she concluded gruffly and fell back hard on the pillow. But her exhaustion made her head a little light and instead of landing on her pillow her head fell on the wood of the bed. Whoever did not sleep at this time would have heard a loud thunk and a high-pitched yelp.

"Blast," she snarled rubbing her head, now fully awake to her distaste. "How in Hell did that get there?" Kibeth growled and glared at the innocent headboard. 

She approached lying down once more and successively made it to her silk pillow without another bump. Kibeth closed her eyes and prayed to the Charter for sleep to take her.

It was silent and she was near to unconsciousness, until a chirp came from outside. Then another chirp; and another. And it seemed to Kibeth that fate didn't care much for her and sent, instead of sleep, a serenade of sparrows and other songbirds she did not care to name. Kibeth's eyes shot open and her body sprang up, fully awake. _Now what?_ It asked her, waiting for her command. Kibeth was about to cast a spell of sleep on herself in zero point five seconds but thought wiser, as she probably wouldn't wake up for a good long while. 

Kibeth whimpered like a child and walked to her boots. Stuffing them on crankily and heading for her door. She turned the knob and looked to the side at a mirror. Her eyes were grumpy with the lack of comforting sleep and her hair. Well, her hair didn't look all the greatest. She growled angrily and combed her hair with her fingers quickly pulling the knots in her haste, which caused her to flinch, then tied it up in an acceptable bun with a black ribbon almost invisible in her equally black hair.

To her surprise as she reached the bottom of the stairs, quite a few travelers were awake. Talking quietly to one another, to tired to make an effort in their conversations to speak loud enough. 

Kibeth closed her eyes slowly and opened them, still wondering why she was down here in the first place and sat at the bar tapping her fingernails to the wood.

"Can I get you something miss?" It was the same girl as before. Her blue eyes were soft and innocent. Her falling golden curls gave her a timid maiden look from a fairy tale; just waiting for her prince to rescue her.

"Just water, thank you," Kibeth replied lazily, laying her cheek in her palm staring into oblivion as the girl retrieved her water.

The maiden set the goblet down in front of her and smiled nervously. Kibeth smiled in return and sipped her water, the cold sensation flooding her warm tongue and throat.

The maiden was still watching her. "Umm," Kibeth mumbled, she didn't want to be rude.

"I'm sorry," the maiden stuttered nervously. "I'm so terribly rude, my name is Mirelle, I was wondering…are you a traveler?" Mirelle was blushing furiously, she must be extremely young; around seventeen or sixteen.

__

Most people that do come here child are, indeed, travelers. She thought. "I am,"

Mirelle fluttered her doll-like lashes in embarrassment and looked down. "What about that man from before, is he from here, or does he travel with you?"

Kibeth's eyebrows rose in amusement and said, "You are quite taken with him aren't you?" A smile curled on Kibeth's lips as she watched the girl blush even more. She was use to this. Belgaer was a very handsome man, and had a lot of female admirers. Saraneth had the same problem, as the Abhorsen, he had many darling youths infatuated with him.

"Well, uh… I-I" Mirelle sputtered shyly. Kibeth broke out in an even broader grin. "Yes, I am." She said quietly. "You were lying when you said he was your concubine. I know it. You're too beautiful to need a concubine. So please tell me, is he your lover?"

Kibeth was taken aback at her bold words. She didn't think the petite doll was capable of such courage. "That's quite a personal question Mirelle," Kibeth said blinking.

More people were spilling into the tavern, and the volume went up a bit. Kibeth waited for Mirelle's answer but saw that her gaze was elsewhere. She followed her eyes and turned around. 

"Kibeth," Belgaer had woken up and was garbed in his usual fashion of dark breeches and equally dark boots and a shirt. His black cloak was in hand and he walked towards Kibeth in his unbearable strides right to her side.

"My love," he whispered. "Ranna is waiting outside the town with horses, come." His hand massaged her shoulder as he spoke. Kibeth glanced at Mirelle and a stab of sorrow hit her, she was absolutely smitten. Kibeth nodded, and decided that Mirelle will forget about Belgaer and find someone else. It was only a childish obsession after all.

"Let's go." They walked out of the tavern, excusing themselves past the flooded tables, Kibeth did not look back.

"Ranna had to leave earlier, didn't want to attract too much attention, it's not often the King of Belisaere walks in Chasel. Anyway, we are heading for Mt. Aunden still; Saraneth will be there along with Mosrael…hopefully." Belgaer turned his attention to the streets in front of him. Chasel was a town right by the river; many merchants and peddlers were already setting up their vendors providing fresh fish and other useful things. 

"Why Mt. Aunden? Why not Saraneth's house? Surely Astarael would not want to take her child. It's far to dangerous, even if they are both skilled with the bells," Kibeth asked curiously.

"The child is old enough to stay in the house by himself. I visited him just a couple of months ago, he was seven years old, he should now be eight. I missed his birthday, again." Belgaer said all this quietly, his dark eyes to the ground as he walked.

"You still must be very proud of him." Kibeth smiled against the sorrow she wished to show, her previous questions could wait.

Belgaer chuckled as he drew his cloak around him and said, "Lets just say Yrael takes after me more than Astarael. Actually, he probably has his own entirely different personality compared to Astarael and I." He mused.

"Yrael will help you finish the Wall when he is older then?" Kibeth asked curiously kicking a small pebble with her boot as she walked.

"If he has skill in creation and craftsmanship," a grin formed on Belgaer's face as he continued. "I don't think he will though. He should have started young; he'll probably just follow in his mother's footsteps. But I _will _need an heir to help me with the Wall and fellow Wallmakers, to succeed after me." His eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. 

Kibeth laughed and nudged his shoulder with her fist. "I will have no children this year Belgaer, Lord of the Wallmakers," Belgaer grabbed her shoulders and held her playfully, his nose touching hers as Kibeth continued, "Not now, maybe in a couple years…if I love you enough." She concluded in jest. He smiled broadly and his breath came warmly on her cheeks. Belgaer placed a kiss on her lips, and smiled again. He sighed as he let go of her and they continued walking to the approaching gates of the village where Ranna awaited them.

"Bear me a child when you will my dear, I love you still." Belgaer finished as he laced his fingers in hers.

Ranna sat atop a mighty white mare polishing his sword with an old rag. He wore his deep red cloak and an equally red tunic with brown leggings. His golden head was bowed as he sat, eager in his work at hand, he did not notice them approach.

"Horses?" Kibeth said in disgust.

"Yes, horses." Belgaer confirmed, Ranna had heard them and sheathed his sword in its scabbard, his blue eyes following the couple.

"I forgot you don't like horses Kibeth," Ranna said in his naturally sweet tone.

"It's not that I don't like them," Kibeth eyed her chestnut steed with a weary stare, "I just think I can make just as fine progress walking with my own two legs rather than rely on a large beast like a horse."

Ranna smiled. "You won't be saying that when we leave you here because of your stubbornness."

Kibeth glared at Ranna as she pet the horse at her side. Its breathing was steady and comfortable under her hand. She stroked the mane and twirled it in her fingers.

Belgaer mounted already and said, "Very well Kibeth we'll meet you at Mt. Aunden in about two weeks, as opposed to riding which will only take about two days."

Kibeth rolled her eyes and reluctantly mounted her stallion. Grumbling and mumbling like her normal self.

"Lovely," Ranna said as he dug his heels into the white mare's sides. The horse spurred into action as it galloped off followed by Belgaer and the unwilling Kibeth.

-

It was dusk when they reached the mountain range of Aunden; Mt. Aunden being only a day and a half away. "We have to leave the horses here, we cannot take them in the mountains." Ranna declared as he dismounted and directed his faithful mare back. Kibeth and Belgaer did the same and looked at the paths ahead of them.

"I don't like hiking." Belgaer complained flatly.

"And I don't like horses, but I had to ride anyway." Kibeth snapped.

Ranna smiled. "Well, I don't mind either so let us go already, for I want to just get there."

They began to hike the rocky path, the sun departed and the moon's luminous glow lit their path fairly. They didn't need to stop often, for their strength was long and endurance great. Kibeth didn't mind walking, in fact she preferred it to riding; but she had to admit that the boredom was endless when walking long distances. 

"Should we camp and reach Aunden in the evening? Or continue through the night and reach the mansions at dawn?" Ranna asked curiously scanning the fields of mountains before the company of three.

"I think it would be best to camp. I do not know these paths well enough to trust my steps. We might lead ourselves off a cliff. I don't have the bright gaze of Ranna." Belgaer informed as he let off the burden of his pack.

"I agree, after all, I am tired." Ranna said with a yawn as he too discarded his pack.

Kibeth blinked slowly, she was tired. She walked slowly over to Ranna and Belgaer's side and disposed her pack to the side. The rocks under her boots made her feet sore. As soon as she reached the mansions of Mt. Aunden, she decided, she was going to take a hot, well-deserved, much needed, bath. Belgaer was already sitting his back propped up on the side of cliff and he sighed. Ranna sat and hummed as he always did. A comfortable, sweet tune, she felt Charter marks of in his voice. Charter marks of sleep and rest. Kibeth never knew if he did it on purpose or if his gentle voice uttered the marks without his knowing. His melody ceased and Kibeth's eyes shot open without her knowing. 

"Sit down Kibeth; you look troubled." Ranna said tenderly. She looked at the duo that sat at her sides. Ranna was looking at her with his bright eyes and Belgaer was just staring into the dark void of the valley before them, he looked vexed.

"Sorry," Kibeth said quietly as she sat next to Belgaer, leaning against him for warmth. His arm found its way around her and brought her closer, stroking her cheek as Ranna started a new tune. That's when Belgaer's nuzzled his face to hers and spoke in a hushed whisper, "Sleep well tonight my love." He set a warm and affectionate kiss on her temple and buried his nose into her hair. 

Kibeth's eyes wandered to Ranna, who lay on the ground looking up at the stars singing softly as he gazed by himself. Why was his heart so light? Does he ever feel anger, regret, and sorrow? Kibeth of course knew he had to feel those things. He was a human being. She loved him in a way she couldn't describe. She loved Saraneth for his strength, Mosrael for her wisdom, Astarael for her good intentions, Dyrim for his high spirits, and Belgaer for his returned love. Ranna was a mystery; did she love him as she would a sibling? No. She felt content in his embrace not proud and brave. Ranna stared back at her, how long had their gaze met and stayed? She asked herself. Ranna smiled his pure and sweet smile, almost noble and winked at her. Kibeth couldn't help but let her mouth curve upwards.

__

~

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A/N: Whee! Long chapter-ish. I hope you wonderful reviewers liked it! Sorry for the delay, I had many end of school year events to brush up on. Holidays are here! You know what that means? Why, it means more updates! Read and review mine and I'll read and review yours! When time is available…


	8. Dyrim, the Great Dueler and Defender of ...

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

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Disclaimer: I own only those that sound unfamiliar, the rest belong to Garth Nix and his brilliant mind. I also do not own the song it is by JRR Tolkien. It's the Song of Luthien found in The Fellowship of the Ring.

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Warnings: Regret, kissing, and a PG-13 sex scene.

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Note to a particular reviewer that caught my interest: You are probably right when you say the Great Charters created the different bloodlines. I mean they did create everything after all. It's just for the glamour of Saraneth being the binder and favorite bell of the Abhorsen and Astarael being found on the Abhorsen's house, this led me to the conclusion (sort of) that the both of them might have a connection with the Abhorsen. Whether they created the bloodline with the Charter or started it on their own. Thanks for the review I appreciated it greatly.

~

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Part One: _Seven Meetings_

**Chapter Eight:** _Dyrim, the Great Loremaster and Dueler of Sindle_

Wake up my love. The dawn has come. Wake up my love. It is time to get up. The voice was sweet to her ears. It sang in a dulcet tone as it repeated the easy words. It wasn't a real song but it made her eyes open slowly. Warm breath fell gracefully on her ear and neck as the song was repeated gently. She shrugged her shoulder when the breath came again, tickling her neck with a soothing caress. 

Kibeth was on her side when she woke. It was still dark contrary to the fact that the man over her sang of the dawn. She yawned and stretched and successfully wriggled under the man's body facing him with sleepy eyes. She knew it was Belgaer, for his face was light and his hair draping like a shadowy veil. Belgaer just looked at her with a keen gaze of dark blue eyes. Eyes scanning her face absorbing the way she looked back him curiously and his eyebrows arched handsomely as if he were in deep thought. Kibeth listened attentively. Ranna was asleep soundly; his voice was steady and quiet among the chirps of crickets and other nocturnal insects that were abroad the hours of darkness.

A hand came to stroke her face as she felt once more at ease with life. And Belgaer's lips found his way to hers. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. She couldn't help to think with worry. What if Ranna _was_ up? She asked herself. Would he find her immoral or offensive? She felt sympathetic for the King of Belisaere at the moment, but she couldn't help but ask herself. _Why? _Why should she care what Ranna thought? Why should you be so sympathetic in such a situation? 

Belgaer cupped her face in his hands as he looked at her. He brought his face down and nuzzled her affectionately. Belgaer was her lover; they should be able to make love when they wanted. She thought. Maybe it is rude to do this now, in Ranna's presence. Her lip made a twitch of frustration that Belgaer didn't notice and confirmed to herself: Ranna is asleep! She lay on the rocky floor when his kisses intensified and his hands bolder. She embraced him and his kisses fell to her neck. She threw her back and made the softest of moans. 

Belgaer was her love. She loved Belgaer. She was devoted to Belgaer. Belgaer was devoted to her. She had forgiven Belgaer for his past mistakes. She no longer cared if others felt for their relationship. No one else would be right for her. She grasped him harder and held him tighter. "Belgaer," she whimpered as she clutched him like a maiden. 

She felt like she did before. Before he left her. They were quarreling the day that had gone and vowed never to speak to each other. Inside, apart from her horrible rage, she felt hurt and she knew she was making the worst and most regretful mistake of her life. Belgaer left her on the edge of the Sickle Wood and departed to the Wall on a cold night. It wasn't until many years after their fight that Ranna had sent word that Astarael bore Belgaer's son. _Eight years ago, _she thought wearily. She was enraged and distraught at the news. He soothed her by saying to her that Belgaer just made a mistake and wasn't thinking because of the quarrel they shared earlier. She thought they were just honeyed words and that Ranna just told her to ease her of her loneliness. 

Ranna begged her to be brought to Belisaere to stay until she felt better and she did. She spent much time with him. Her laughs made up for all the tears she shed when Belgaer left her and he ruled his kingdom with her. Asking her for advice, taking heed in her council. Mosrael, who was sister to Ranna, actually asked her if she was to wed Ranna, she denied grimly and Mosrael looked at her with her wise eyes and nodded. It wasn't until the she heard that question when she began to notice other things. Whispers came to her ears, "Kibeth is to be the High Queen. I know it." Or, "Lady Kibeth unwed? I thought Lord Ranna was her husband." She drew a little farther from Ranna when these things came to her. Even Ranna treated her as a husband treated his wife. When he learned that Kibeth's spirit was lingering from him, he grew concerned and asked her how she could find solace. She shook her head to his assistance and Mosrael told him her heart was broken.

She stayed in Belisaere for six years, and she left Ranna reluctantly and headed back to the Great Sickle Wood and her anger passed and Belgaer returned and she accepted him once more. But that was the past and Astarael succeeded in having her night with Belgaer and binding him to her no matter how they wanted to break it. "Belgaer, hold me, don't let me go." She kissed him tenderly and he held her. "Oh Kibeth," Belgaer whispered as they finished the night in bliss.

-

"The leaves were long, the grass was green,

The hemlock-umbels tall and fair

And in the glade a light was seen

Of stars and shadows shimmering.

Tinúviel was dancing there

To music of a pipe unseen,

And light of stars was in her hair,

And in her raiment glimmering"

Kibeth opened her eyes reluctant and shivered. The sun was up and once again the sound of a singing voice awoke her. But it was not Belgaer, nor was it Ranna. For Ranna stood on the ground his bag packed and ready, he was grinning at the keeper of the voice. 

About five feet away stood a tall elder man. He was garbed in leather breeches and a wispy white shirt with a large flowing brown cloak and big brown boots. On his head he wore a feathered hat atop long silver hair and upon his face a merry grin. Kibeth smiled at the man. He began to sing the song as he danced around them as if he were a jester.

"Enough Dyrim," Ranna laughed as he stopped the old man from more skipping. "You entertained us enough I believe." 

"Ranna!" Dyrim exclaimed as if he hadn't noticed him. "Still young I see. Alas, you were all young when created this divine magic!" Then more seriously he added, "Of course, I though I was too, but the years surprisingly caught up with me. In a couple thousand years they'll catch up you too." He admired Ranna as if he was his own son. Kibeth observed from the ground still under her blanket. 

"Belgaer!" Kibeth glanced to her side and Belgaer too was up and grinning. "Why, I haven't seen you _since _we created the divine magic! You haven't changed at all I see. Nor in mind."

"You taught me well Dyrim, in the ways of wisdom." Belgaer responded with a smile.

Dyrim put on a very serious face, straightened up, and said a matter-of-factly, "That is because I am Dyrim!" His voice rose and his hands stretched upwards to the heavens, "Great Loremaster, and Grand Dueler of what-once-was-the-unprotected-town of Sindle!" Kibeth giggled and Ranna laughed. Belgaer shook his head with amusement. 

"That is well friend," Ranna said after his laugh, face still smiling. "Now tell us. Are you on your way to Aunden as well?" 

Dyrim looked at him in mock outrage. "But of course, Ranna, Lord of Belisaere!" Ranna rolled his eyes and glanced at Kibeth for a split second. Dyrim's eyes as well rested upon Kibeth and joy spread through his face. "Kibeth, the Divine! Kibeth, the Disreputable! How I have missed you so. No longer the sweet maiden of old. But the beautiful woman of new!" 

Kibeth blushed and smiled at him. "It is good to see you Dyrim. I have missed you."

Dyrim looked at her intently as if he were reading her thoughts with his dark brown eyes. _I wish to speak with you when you are alone. _He looked at her, and she could have sworn she heard his voice. "Kibeth?" Belgaer looked at her perplexingly. 

"I think it is time we went on our way. Would you like to come Dyrim, Great Loremaster and Dueler of Sindle?" Ranna asked with a grin.

"I think that would be quite all right milord." He answered professionally. "But I think Kibeth is not ready for she is not clothed. I do not think she wants to advance towards the Mansions _not_ garbed."

Ranna nodded his head and snorted a laugh, never turning in the direction of Kibeth or Belgaer, just sharing a laugh with Dyrim. Kibeth looked over at Belgaer, to see if he had a say in this. But he was grinning wryly and kissed her bare shoulder giving her the most innocent face under the sun. Kibeth glared at him as a grin played unwillingly on her face.

"Fine then." She declared. "But be off with you _men, _I will not have you sneaking looks." She said in jest.

~

Notesies: Not exactly long. Anyway, the little story you hear about Kibeth and Belgaer's past will definitely be described better in a prelude I plan to write after this one. Believe it or not this fic _will _actually have the binding of Orannis. That won't be for a while though. This is quite a lengthy fic. And to **KTD** if you read this, know that the review I sent you on your latest chapter is kind of false. The stones are related to the Wall, I was just stupid and overlooked it. Sorry dear, forgive me! Read and Review mine and I'll read review yours…when time is available. 


	9. Yrael

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog 

Disclaimer: Some of the characters and all the places belong Garth Nix and this is not intended to infringe the copyright in anyway, or earn any scowls from the readers, but I'm sure I'll receive some anyway. 

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Warnings: No warnings, except some drama.

Notes: Kinslayer, is a term used in the Silmarillion, it is a person who murdered ones kin. Big beta thanks to **randomcandle**! 

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Part One: _Seven Meetings _

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Chapter Nine: _Yrael _

The mansions of Aunden were hidden. It was the place where most of it started. Kibeth was born there, as was Belgaer, Ranna, Saraneth, and the rest of them. The old Charter marks there would never fade, they'd keep burning in the stone walls to stay secret. 

Kibeth hadn't been there since she was younger. It did not change, not at all. It was still tall, and the marble smooth and white. Not even the animal life noticed it, for there wasn't a sound except that made by the fall of boots echoing through the white halls. She looked high above her, as if she hadn't been here before. Gold lanterns swung underneath elegant white arches. The place was drenched in Charter magic, Kibeth could almost feel it running her veins. 

Her scent picked up as something else became clear. A metallic scent, almost foul if the Charter was not there to cover it up. Free magic. Kibeth smiled to herself as she brought the Free magic closer to her. If she had been any other person the Free magic would have nipped her, or burned her. She had forgotten the effect. Ranna had banned it after she helped bind most of it. This was probably the only place it was used, under Ranna's permission. But Free magic knew her, it liked her, it would never harm her in any way. Fair memories flooded her mind, but before she could reminisce any longer she was interrupted by the sound of greetings. 

Saraneth approached out of the main hall, only now did she realize how deep in the mountain she was. She looked behind her and saw the entrance far behind, barely a glimmer amongst the glitter of the lanterns that hung. 

"Hello Kibeth," this was Mosrael; tall and very beautiful. 

"Greetings Mosrael," Kibeth did not know what else to say as she smiled. 

"Come into the chamber, everyone is waiting your arrival," Saraneth said to the group. 

Kibeth noticed that Saraneth didn't say hello to her. Did he grudge her in some way? Did he think it was her fault? A frown covered her face as she entered the room. 

The main chamber was circular and large. It was brighter than the hall, and more beautiful, as the Charter marks could actually be seen. They shone silver and the floor was a luminous gold. When she walked on the floor a ripple swam to the other side of the room. Free magic was keeping her from falling into the Charter and once again she felt a wash of warmth through her. 

"Sit," commanded Mosrael. 

Kibeth took a seat next to Belgaer and Mosrael in the midst of the Charter Chamber. Now she saw the others. Saraneth sat next to his sister tall and proud, his dark plaited hair fell over his shoulder, and the bells Belgaer made for him he wore on his surcoat. Kibeth blushed and dropped her eyes when she noticed he was staring at her as well with darker eyes. 

She glanced upwards and saw Astarael, petite, with a porcelain face and bright green eyes, just as she remembered. She too wore the surcoat but she did not have the bells, Kibeth knew that hidden in the Abhorsen-in-Waiting's pouch was the panpipes. Belgaer had constructed the craft for her when she was younger, the child Astarael had begged for a present from him and he made simple silver panpipes for her pleasure. A joke it seemed to Kibeth that she added Free magic and Charter marks to use as a similar purpose as the bells. 

"Where is my brother?" Belgaer asked Saraneth. Ranna scowled at this and turned to converse with his sister, Mosrael. 

Saraneth ignored him and spoke to Belgaer grimly. "I have not seen Orannis since we had parted, I sent word to him but I do not think he will come-" 

Ranna interrupted fiercely with a growl. "Not that the murderer is welcome after all. Evil deeds he did years ago, I would never forget nor forgive him." 

"Nor I Ranna," spoke Belgaer. "However, he is my kinsman." Belgaer looked tired and his eyes burned. What did Belgaer feel? Did he hate his younger brother? Kibeth thought she would if her parents were slain by Orannis' hand, but her father had departed long before the Charter was completed. Poor Belgaer, poor Ranna and Mosrael. Poor everyone, in fact. _Pity will do them no good, it wasn't right of me. _

"Why not consult Kibeth on this matter?" Astarael had stopped hiding behind her brother's back and sprang innocently in to converse. "She, after all, was such a loving companion of Orannis. Surely she would know his whereabouts." 

__

Foolish girl! Your tongue speaks to freely, you know nothing of this matter! Kibeth narrowed her eyes at the young woman, but chose to still her tongue in her companions' presence. It was Belgaer who spoke her defense. 

"They were companions, yes. But not lovers, he confided more in me than Kibeth." Belgaer was calm when he spoke, but he did not say it to Astarael's face. He looked to Saraneth. 

"The last time Orannis was seen was here was about two hundred years ago." Dyrim broke the argument and his speech was light and confident. He turned to Saraneth, "You sent word with a sending, correct?" 

Saraneth nodded and looked at the man. 

"Why did you summon him anyway?" Ranna interrupted rudely. Kibeth rarely saw him on such occasions , normally Ranna was calm, cool, and collected. What she saw now was wrath. 

"You said yourself others deserved second chances," Dyrim spoke quietly. 

Ranna's face lessened and he looked upon Dyrim solemnly. "People deserve second chances but he tried to stop us, and he damn near accomplished that. He would have killed you Dyrim, like he did mother and father, and his own mother." This was followed with silence only to be disrupted by a running feet into the room. All heads turned toward the direction of the door and Saraneth even stood up. 

The door broke open and a young boy with hair to his shoulders entered with his chest heaving. His hair was white and his skin pale, but the only color that made him stand out was his green eyes. Brilliant emerald...the color of Astarael's eyes. 

Ignoring the group he rushed into Astarael's arms, "Mother, there is someone here!" Astarael smiled and clutched him. 

"Who is-" when Astarael began to speak Saraneth cut in fiercely. "How dare you barge in here like that," he shouted. While others' eyes glinted with amusement as Saraneth scolded the boy Kibeth looked at Belgaer. He wasn't looking at her though, and he didn't look in the least bit gleeful, he looked thoughtfully and sadly at the boy. _So this is Yrael. _

"But it was important Uncle! I swear, Telefil and Telefon wouldn't even let me go near him, they said to run and get you as fast as I could." Yrael looked with large eyes upon his uncle, but before Saraneth could make his reproach Belgaer swept himself up and headed for the door, his quick pace even quicker. 

"Is that my father?" it wasn't awe Yrael said it in, it was disgust and the question could have turned his head faster than a blow to jaw would have. 

Belgaer looked white and even if his face was contorted with sadness he shook it off and quickly left the room. Ranna and Saraneth behind him. Kibeth took one last look at the child before she followed. 

"Stay here with your son Astarael, I fear our visitor isn't someone gentle." 

What Kibeth saw when she left the chamber wasn't what she expected either, but she knew deep within her, it was exactly the person she wanted to see. 

-

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A/N : Well actually, I didn't like that chapter too much. I don't think I should be saying that though, anyway thank you reviewers for reading, almost to part two.


	10. Mindful Thoughts

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog   
  
Disclaimer: Some of the characters and all the places belong Garth Nix and this is not intended to infringe the copyright in anyway, or earn any scowls from the readers, but I'm sure I'll receive some anyway. Kinslayer belongs to Tolkien, I did _not _think of that term. But it's brilliant.   
  
**Warnings: **Spoiler warning. Read at your own risk. Especially if you haven't read Lirael.  
**  
Notes: **Go to Belisaere! See my bio for info, thanks very much. Big happy thanks to **random-candle **and **KaliedescopeCat **for the lovely beta job!  
  
**~  
  
Part One: **_Seven Meetings   
  
_**Chapter Ten: **_Mindful Words   
  
_How long ago was it when that man stood beside her with a blade in his hand and a grin on his face? His resemblance to Belgaer was uncanny. Yet Belgaer was calm and thoughtful. Orannis was proud and arrogant, a symbol of power and strength.   
  
And he stood there tall, proud, arrogant, and powerful. His face was young, though. He looked no older than twenty. Kibeth tried hard not to smile at her old friend, despite what he had done. The group was out of the Chamber and lone Orannis was standing four feet away, a suspicious glint in his eye. Belgaer said nothing, Dyrim looked sad, Mosrael looked to her brother, and Saraneth and Ranna snarled with fury.   
  
"You know well you are not welcome, Kinslayer," Ranna said. "Go back to Death where you belong!"   
  
She did not know if this affected Orannis, but Kibeth felt a stab of pain in her chest. "Do not be so cruel, Ranna," she whispered. Ranna glanced at Kibeth and spoke with strained anger.  
  
"He is a murderer, and yet you defend him?"   
  
"And I would defend her, but you on the other hand..." They were the first words Kibeth had heard out of Orannis' lips in hundreds of years. Unlike the rest of his appearance, his voice wasn't as gentle and cynical as it used to be. It resonated among them, deep and powerful.   
  
"Shut up," said Ranna. His voice was no longer musical. Why was everything changing?   
  
"Telefil, Telefon. Go into the Chamber with your aunt," Saraneth said to the twins. Much like their father were they: tall, with brown hair and dark eyes.   
  
"Father, please-" one said.   
  
"Go!" Saraneth looked at them with a threatening glance, and they obeyed.   
  
"You treat your sons as if they were children," Orannis spoke coolly.   
  
"It is not your business. They are children compared to one as malicious as you, Orannis." Saraneth said calmly.   
  
Orannis' lip curled, and he said nothing.   
  
"Leave Orannis." Kibeth turned to Belgaer as he spoke and inched closer to him, away from Ranna. "For I shall not see you slain on these grounds as you have done to others. Even if you deserve it."   
  
Orannis stood up taller when his older sibling took part in the conversation. Now their resemblance showed even more, save for Orannis' long hair. "I doubt you shall slay me! What a trap it would be, sending for me, and then killing me! You would descend to my level?"   
  
Kibeth groaned to herself. _Why did you come back? You idiot, Ranna will slay you. Then what, Old Friend? I cannot rescue you again. They will not listen. I have not the strength...   
  
Thou shalt not worry, sister. For Ranna will bring me no harm, not in your presence. And Belgaer protects his little brother still, and he protects you. Why do you neglect him? My brother grew jealous, I see.   
  
_Kibeth's mouth fell open slightly as Orannis' words came flooding into her mind. The Free Magic felt stronger in that sudden moment. As the others questioned and accused him, he spoke secretly to Kibeth, directly into her mind.

  
_You like this new power I have achieved. Aye, I thought of thee when I learned it, sister.   
  
What do you mean I neglect Belgaer? Why do you twist things around?   
  
_As Orannis spoke with Ranna a smile curled upon his lips.   
  
_Your love for Ranna hurt him. He wanted to rid the Old Kingdom of the King once he saw...   
  
_Kibeth felt a lump in her throat grow; it grew until it hurt and she clutched Belgaer's arm, burying her face in his cloak. He made no sign though.   
  
_You speak lies, Orannis. I love Belgaer and you wish to come between us because you love Astarael.   
  
_She tried to believe this; for all she knew, this was partly true.   
  
_Astarael I love., and I have wished for her since I was young. I did rue the day when my brother took her from me.   
  
Astarael was never yours to begin with. She hated you.   
  
I know. And she hated thee, sister. For you stole her beloved.   
  
Beloved indeed. Lust is all I can find between the two.   
  
Lust, is something I share with Astarael also. But she shunned me. She did not smile for me. She did not care for me. She did not love me. But I love her.   
  
And I pity you, Orannis, that you love her still. But my heart lies with Belgaer, and I have forgiven him.   
  
As you wish, sister. But be careful. Little love is between Ranna and Belgaer now, as there is little love between you and Astarael. I say Astarael will be your death.   
  
_"Leave, Kinslayer! You bring nothing but sorrow and anger," Saraneth said suddenly.   
  
Kibeth blinked for a moment and searched the halls with her eyes. Orannis still looked calm, but his face was paler. He was corrupted, her little Orannis who held her hand as their fathers read to them. The young boy who crafted toys and instruments with his elder brother was now... different. His spirit was twisted.   
  
She clutched Belgaer's robes tighter. Orannis was dangerous. The sparkle in his eyes, was dangerous. His arrogant smile, was dangerous.  
  
"Sorrow and anger I may bring, but I was summoned by Dyrim, and only by his leave will I depart."   
  
"You know well, Orannis, that Saraneth arranged the Sending. You will abide by his rule." Mosrael spoke clearly and her head was held high. The moonstones upon her brow glinted in the lighted room and she indeed held much power within her.   
  
"Not by Saraneth's word will Orannis depart." Dyrim had left the Charter Chamber and entered the halls. His silver hair sparkled and his eyes were wisdom. "For it was I that ordered Saraneth."   
  
Saraneth said nothing, but Orannis smiled maliciously.   
  
"Good evening, Dyrim the Wise." Orannis gave a bow and looked upon Dyrim with dark eyes. There was long silence between the two, and Ranna scoffed angrily and departed followed by his sister into the bedchamber halls. Perhaps it was best, Ranna loved Orannis not at all, and such feelings were dangerous.   
  
"You have learned my art well, Orannis." Dyrim said after several minutes.   
  
Now Belgaer showed sign of emotion, for he shoved Kibeth away from him swiftly. It did not hurt her, nor was it powerful enough to send her to the ground. But it shocked her.   
  
"You learned how to Speak?" Belgaer's face was covered in suspicion and fury.   
  
Saraneth made a sort of chortle before he said his part. "But only Dyrim knows that skill. Dyrim taught it to know one." Saraneth turned to Dyrim with a confused look on his face.   
  
"Free Magic taught me this, not Dyrim." said Orannis.   
  
It was in that instant that Kibeth knew her little friend was no longer her friend at all, for some of the Free Magic that was used in the Halls came to Orannis. A white light flashed and a strong metallic smell soiled the air. Kibeth could not breathe, and she could not think. Thousands of screams, hundreds of visions entered her mind.   
  
She remembered what she wished could be forgotten. Her mother holding her close before the Stilken came. Belgaer yelling at her, accusing her, leaving her, Ranna holding her in what she thought was betrayal, and her little Orannis, bringing his blade to her father's chest. As fast as it came, it soon departed. The blinding white light subsided and Kibeth heard herself gasp, tasting air as if her lungs never tasted it before. But then it was dark.   
  
-  
  
_Lirael.   
  
_That name.   
  
_Bound to the Clayr. Bound to the Abhorsen. Released by the Charter. So your destiny shall be.   
  
_-  
  
Kibeth opened her eyes slowly. She was still in the Chamber, but instead of being lit, it was dim, the lamps were shattered. Kibeth was on the floor. She got up, and realized she had been injured. Her arm was cut and bruised. The shards of lamp cut through her tunic and her right arm was scratched. Her forehead and cheeks were cut also. A simple healing spell was in order, and as soon as she spoke it her cuts were healed.   
  
Orannis was gone.   
  
Saraneth was lying on his side to her left. He had suffered no damage, having managed to cast an extremely weak diamond of protection just before Orannis unleashed his Free Magic. Of course, it must have broken a while ago, since not a trace lingered. At least he wasn't hurt.   
  
Kibeth turned around. Belgaer lay on his stomach. She ran to his side and turned him over. His eyes opened with the same difficulty and he blinked when he saw Kibeth. She smiled as he looked at her.   
  
"I saw you," he whispered. "Locked in a chamber, and I couldn't save you. I thought you'd freeze." Kibeth sighed; even if his words didn't make sense, she was glad he wasn't injured. She placed her fingers on his brow.   
  
Orannis was wrong. That was all Kibeth could say to herself now.   
  
"Promise me," Belgaer reached for her hand and placed it on his breast, just above his heart. "That you won't let me leave you."   
  
Kibeth's smile widened and laid her head gently against his chest. "I promise," she whispered.   
  
Belgaer smiled before his eyes closed and he fell into slumber. Kibeth felt something else tug at her, besides Belgaer's love. She didn't know what it was. A beckoning, urging her to release her woe and despair. Summoning her to her father, her mother. It felt as if she was tainted, never to be healed, wandering until her loves were no more and the years of her life spent into nothing.  
  
She found out, thousands of years later when she looked up at it with the object of her destiny. The Ninth Gate was calling her.   
  
**~  
  
A/N: **He calls her sister because of Kibeth's bond with Belgaer, and their past.   



	11. Fair Speaker

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The Chronicles of the Disreputable Dog

Disclaimer: Some of the characters and all the places belong Garth Nix, and this is not intended to infringe the copyright in anyway, or earn any scowls from the readers. But I'm sure I'll receive some anyway. 

Warnings: Disturbing themes. 

Notes: _TaDa! _Take out those horns and trumpets, because we've reached Part Two! Yay!

~

Part Two: _The Wallmaker's Child_

Chapter One: _Fair Speaker_

Determination and fury. What a combination; it made the blood boil in his very veins. He smacked the rose bush a second time with his birch stick. Hundreds of scarlet petals rained from the sky from the angry blow. Tears they must have been, for were they not the same color that poured from his eyes? No, not scarlet tears, that was his blood he spilt. The tears he shed were clear, and empty. The emptiness that was in his soul departed through his eyes. It happened often; but he thought it weak. He punished himself for it; no longer were his tears on his cheeks, only his blood. Little sprinkles of his mother and father were on his hands, in his very body. But he wanted nothing to do with them. Why should he care? The blood in his body was not his own, but a constant reminder that his parents dwelled within him. He brought his wooden sword down upon the lovely, crippled plant once more. His stick shattered, as did most of the bush. His mind was shattered. Yrael was only ten.

-

He stretched out on his chair and placed his muddy shoes upon the table. The Sendings hurried with rags to clean the mess, but the man shooed them away. He yawned lazily and peered around the house. No one was here. His mother and uncle were off on some _quest_ to save the Kingdom. _Alas,_ _how cliché things are getting_, he thought. Not that it mattered much, they'd been gone for almost two years. He was now master of the Abhorsen's House and nothing stopped him from doing what he wanted. His father even devised some flying contraption years before Yrael was born, luckily this was a cure for boredom. But the Kingdom seemed to have lost its touch when the people who ran it departed. 

"We shall go to the place where it began," his mother told him when he was but a child. "I shall never leave you, my son." Yrael did not care. Do not come back, was what he should have said.

So the Seven departed. Where they really went Yrael did not know. Telefil was already considered Abhorsen, and his wife's belly was swollen with a new babe. Telefon was made regent for the King(which Yrael thought was entirely stupid) due to Ranna's brotherly love for Saraneth. So Yrael was left with the House, and Telefil's nagging, pregnant wife. She was barely twenty-five but she acted as if she were an old maid.

Yrael was a man of eighteen. He was tall, with a white plait of hair that fell to his waist, and brilliant eyes that disarmed any maid of Belisaere. Yea, he was like his father in many ways: his undeniably handsome looks, and his craftiness. He knew how to please those who wanted pleasure, but he expected better when the turn was his.

Yrael did not have much time to relax and laze about, for the Old Wench of Cousin(as Yrael often called her in secret) waddled in the room looking thoroughly disgusted. "Well," she snarled after discovering her kinsman. "I'm glad your comfortable. I'm almost ready to bear this child yet I find myself doing _all_ the work in this house." she glared with her dark brown eyes and her slender hands upon her large hips made her almost menacing.

"Do not bring your complaints to me, Allraiel," Yrael said with a scowl. "Why not have the Sendings do the work? That _is _what they are created for," he mocked. 

Allraiel was turning a dark crimson. She huffed for awhile and smacked at his knees. "Get your filthboots _off _the table!" Yrael obeyed with a wry grin and watched as she left the room, muttering more complaints.

He sighed and looked around once more. There was absolutely nothing to do. He got up and silently wished his feet to take him somewhere more interesting. _But of course.._ uttered a seductive voice in the back of his brain.

Yrael stopped in his tracks and looked about. The house was silent and nobody stirred. Yrael smiled to himself and wondered if this was just a trick of his boredom.

__

Nay, no trick am I. 

The young man walked on a kept the voice in his head. Smiling to himself, careful not to think of anything until he reached the Paperwing.

"Is it a spirit my uncle so righteously cast back into Death who speaks to me?"

__

Mayhap, though it was not the bells that did so.

Yrael shivered deliciously at the new event. Not wanting the spirit to depart he asked quickly, "Then you must have be old. Why do you speak to me, fair one?"

__

Older than thee, pale one. You are different. Thou hast more courage and knowledge than any of the Seven who created this Kingdom. You are like me.

Yrael cocked an eyebrow and decided that he liked this speaker. "I am honored. Who were you?"

__

I was noble among the Charter once. But their foolish ideas angered me greatly. That is why I have seeked you out. I need a successor.

Yrael smiled and almost laughed. Noble among the Charter? "Very well speaker. Tell me what I shall do."

__

Not yet. But I shall tell you where to find me.

Yrael saw nothing after that. For his eyes seemed they were no longer at the Abhorsen's House but somewhere different. A lake, where the sun shined its brightest, and reeds.

__

The Red Lake is where I dwell. Find me, and I shall reward you. With power and wealth beyond all imagine.

The white-haired man grinned and hurried into the Paperwing. Normally such visions would be taken as an evil omen. But Yrael felt seduced by this voice, he loved it, and wanted to know it. He did not care for the Seven. He did not wish to save the Kingdom. He wanted to be apart of its destruction.

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A/N: Extremely short chapter, but it had to be. Don't worry, Lily's back in business!


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